The Simple Questions
by James Landor
Summary: This story revisits some of the key moments in Emily and Alison's relationship.
1. Are You Asleep?

**A/N: I intend to update this weekly. Hopefully, it will help with the withdrawal symptoms we are all having since the series ended! This first chapter explored what happened between Alison and Emily in episode 5x05. The rest of the story will take place primarily in season 7 when I explore their moments off screen, but I thought this first on-screen experience established a lot in their relationship. I re-watched their interactions in season 5 recently and came to the realization that it was the first time Alison seemed more than willing to be more than Emily's friend and was ironically the first time Emily was resistant to her. I guess that's what made their story so satisfying in the end: they both finally landed on the same page.**

It started with a simple question. "Ali, are you asleep?"

Neither of them could have predicted what the answer to that question would be, it just happened. Alison's kiss was a long awaited reunion, Emily's a reluctant apology.

When Emily realized that their kiss was deeper and longer than any they'd had before Alison ran away, her breath was knocked out of her chest by the overwhelming shock and she pulled away to gasp for air. Ali was ripped out of her haze as she looked down at Emily. It took all of the courage she collected while on the run to speak.

"Are you okay?"

Emily couldn't speak, hard as she tried. She nodded.

Alison gave her a moment to calm down and ran her ring finger lightly along the back of Emily's ear. Suddenly they were kissing again. The whole night seemed to be controlled by unseen forces. Gravity urged their lips together, though neither was sure whose carried a greater mass, whose really controlled every action. Their legs entangled and their hips moved closer like magnets, only to come back together when pulled apart. They connected and resisted, connected and resisted. It was during this electric interaction that Emily began to doubt what she realized were _her own_ actions.

Alison occupied almost every section of Emily's brain: the smell of her hair, the pressure of her thigh between her legs, the soft sensation of her tongue slipping into her mouth. Almost every cell was screaming "Alison!" _Almost_ every cell. But, one piece of her brain, all the way in the back, gnawed at her. The piece telling her that this was all false and a complete manipulation. Alison had a need and Emily was filling it, as always. These doubts were not her own but everyone else's, everyone who had been warning her to protect her heart since Alison had come home.

Ali slid her hand down Emily's stomach. This terrified her, and in an attempt to satisfy her own uncertainty about control, she grabbed Alison's waist and flipped them over so that she hovered above her. Stopping entirely was no longer an option because Emily was hopelessly unable to let go of the girl she'd just wanted to hold for so long.

Alison stopped the kiss and grabbed the back of Emily's neck to keep her close. She stared into her eyes and without even blinking to break the contact she jerked her hips up toward Emily as if challenging her to take the interaction further than any of their others had gone.

Emily gasped and sighed and pushed her hand past the hem of Alison's shorts and into her panties. But as her fingers combed through the hair between Alison's legs she paused and her gaze softened.

"Have you ever done this before?"

Alison smirked and tried to kiss Emily to avoid answering the question, but Emily pulled back.

She tilted her head. "Ali..?"

Alison looked away then, over Emily's shoulder. "Yes. I mean, no. Never with a girl."

When Ali finally looked back at her, Emily was sure she saw a deep fear in her eyes. She was the only person who never wondered if Ali could truly feel fear or not or a loss of confidence. Of course, Ali could fear rejection, it's part of what made her so harsh. The fear didn't shock Emily, but the fact that Alison felt it with her did.

This caused her a fleeting and regrettable moment in which she felt a deep craving for vengeance, payback for all the times Alison had denied her. But this feeling was quickly replaced by a heart-sinking sadness. Emily wanted nothing more than to make Alison feel wanted in that moment and to show her that she was right to come home. She shuttered at the thought of Ali sleeping alone and starving after having been pulled from the ground. She pulled her hand away and rolled on her side, Alison followed and they faced each other on the bed.

Alison couldn't decipher Emily's expression as she retreated deeper into her own thoughts. The shock of feeling Emily pull away made her shiver. After so long without so much as a hug, she was desperate to be touched. She especially wanted to be touched by someone who loved her as much as Emily, after so long of feeling hated and rejected. She sought the utter safety of Emily's presence and she wanted Emily to know that she loved her too, even though she couldn't bring herself to say it, to say any of it.

"Em?"

Emily was coaxed out of her thoughts by Ali's whine. "Are you sure?"

Alison's eyes watered. "Please," she begged in a whisper.

Emily responded with action. She kissed away the tear that crossed the bridge of Alison's nose and then gently lifted Alison's leg over her hip and slid her hand between her legs. The warm wetness she found there made her moan. There was physical proof that Alison did want her in some way, that she could make Alison feel something, at her very fingertips. With Alison's legs spread wide over her, she slid two fingers inside of her. With every few thrusts, she pushed them deeper. She pulled Alison in and pushed her away. Alison enveloped her and resisted her only to envelop her again and then suddenly Alison's eyes shot open and she panted.

Alison had felt similar, if duller, pleasure before with the boys she had been with, but those interactions were shrouded in slight disappointment as if she'd always been desperately climbing a mountain and never reaching the peak. But then, her movements sped up and she looked at Emily in total surprise. She was mesmerized and perplexed by what was a new feeling to her. Her heart raced and she was slightly scared by the frantic actions of her own body. She was powerless to stop it.

"Em, what's happening?" She hadn't meant to ask out loud.

"Are you okay?"

When Emily's fingers threatened to stop Alison grabbed her wrist and urged her to continue.

Emily realized what Alison meant, and she kissed her cheek before resting her lips on her ear. "It's okay," she promised, "just let it happen….When you feel like it, hold my hand steady."

"I missed you so much," Alison choked out before clutching Emily's wrist and shuttering as she orgasmed.

She looked into Emily's eyes with total awe as it happened, and held Emily's hand still for what seemed like an eternity. When she finally relaxed and caught her breath, Emily kissed her.

"Okay?" Emily asked.

She nodded, her damp brow brushing against Emily's forehead. "Okay."

Emily pulled her fingers out slowly and moved Alison's leg to rest between her own. She tucked Alison's head under her arm and pulled her into her chest.

Alison's request broke the serene silence. "Can I touch you?" Her voice was muffled by Emily's chest.

Emily kissed her hairline. "Just sleep."

Emily was completely unable to comprehend what had just happened, and this inability paralyzed her. She was drowning in her own utter satisfaction at having finally felt wanted by the only person _she'd ever wanted_ and this exhausted her.

Alison didn't want to feel rejected by her request, but she did. She would never tell Emily though and risk making her feel guilty for simply not wanting something.


	2. Is it Raining?

**A/N: This chapter is somewhat dark, but I expect the tone of this story to lighten as it progresses. This chapter takes place during episode 5x23 and it sees both Alison and Emily be far too hard on themselves.**

* * *

"Someone said it was raining, is it raining back home?"

It was a simple question and yet Emily found it much more difficult to answer than the first.

Emily couldn't breathe then, as so many realizations overwhelmed her. She had tried not to think about what prison must be like for Alison, and now she was confronted with it. Ali couldn't tell if it was raining from her cell, where there were no windows and the concrete walls were too thick to hear even the hardest pelting of water during the worst of storms.

It was such a simple question. The answer fell in sheets outside her window as she watched and yet she couldn't find it right away. "Yes, it—it's raining."

"Home" was the word that hurt the most. It was where Ali could be right now, where she'd ran from for two years. Emily dragged her back only to send her away again.

 _The prison hallway was cold. It was shrouded in darkness from the impending "lights-out" and this darkness approached her slowly as each set of fluorescents were extinguished one-by-one and narrowed her surroundings like shovels of dirt. The guard cleared his throat, and Ali used every ounce of precious energy she had left to say "goodnight, Em." Being able to speak to her was a small and welcome luxury._

 _She ambled toward the guard and when she reached him he grabbed her arm like a tourniquet and forced her to walk faster, dragging her along. With each click of his feet, the ticking of the analog clock on the wall seemed to get louder._

Emily felt nauseous when she hung up, her guilt and sadness and anger churning in her stomach, but she swallowed air desperately and refused to let the sickness overtake her.

 _Once her cell door slammed shut Alison fell to her knees by the steel toilet bowl and vomited. She was left with nothing but her memories for company night after night and her regrets poisoned her. Part of her felt like she deserved this, if not because of all of her childhood offences then because she couldn't just tell the girls, Emily at least, the truth about her pursuit of_ A. _The other part of her wanted to be angry with them, but it was too exhausted to bother with the feeling. She wasn't mad at Emily, but she was utterly brokenhearted._

Emily had hurt Alison badly and she struggled to find sleep as she laid in her bed. Ali shouldn't have lied though, right? She should have just been honest.

 _She tried to be honest with Emily, she thought. One last effort. She was too late, or Emily was too pig-headed. She couldn't settle on an explanation and she fought her blanket in search of a comfortable position._

Emily couldn't find one, but she eventually fell asleep. It was not restful, her head was littered with nightmares.

* * *

Alison stood under the stream of the public prison shower, readying herself for court in the morning. The water cascaded over the curves of her body, and no one kept watch, no guard stood by. Emily approached her, sliding her hands slowly around her waist. Alison leaned back against her body. She was safe, Emily would keep her safe. Steam wafted behind them, and as it floated back Emily floated with it. She saw herself standing there, embracing Alison. She wore a black hoodie. Emily wore a black hoodie and she wasn't protecting Alison, she was strangling her. Ali clawed at her neck, desperately trying to pry Emily's fingers loose.

Emily awoke and ripped her sheets off of her sweating body. She struggled for air as if she could feel Alison's pain. Her whole childhood had been spent trying to protect Alison, but she wasn't her protector, not anymore. She was her attacker.

 _Alison was curled up tightly. She laid close to the wall in the hopes that she might fall through it and find a portal to a less painful dimension. Dreams of never seeing Emily again haunted her. If she was found guilty, would Emily visit? Her visits would get less and less frequent and Ali's memory of her face would gradually blur and fade into..._

 _Blackness was what she saw when she opened her eyes. The dark wall was all she saw. She couldn't tell if morning had come yet. After all, she'd done wrong, and all the times she'd broken Emily's heart, she should have anticipated her betrayal. She had one last chance with Emily and she destroyed it with dishonesty. She didn't deserve Emily, she deserved to remain an inmate, totally untouchable._

 _The morning_ had _come and Alison swore she could hear the distant echo of a gavel falling to its block as she changed out of her jumpsuit._

 _Bang!_

The front door fell closed behind Emily and she rushed down the front steps with her hands buried in her pockets. The morning sun was inconsiderately bright and glinted off of Emily's car as she unlocked it. She could apologize, but she would only get a real chance to if Alison was found innocent, because what would her apology mean if she delivered it through plexiglass? She finally had a chance with Alison and she destroyed it. She didn't deserve her. She would have to stay away. Emily had already shaken Ali to the core and shouldn't touch her lest she shatter.


	3. Is it Really You?

**A/N: This chapter is almost a week overdue, and for that reason, I will be releasing an interlude and another chapter before the end of the week! Thank you so much for all of the kind reviews. This chapter takes place during episode 6x01.**

"Oh my God! Oh my God! Is it really you?" Emily cried as she spread her fingers widely over Alison's back. She coughed between her exclamations, her breath rough with smoke and soot.

Alison looked to the sky as if to thank some unseen force saving Emily's life as Emily moved her arms back to encircle her neck.

"Oh God! I'm so sorry," Emily whined in Alison's ear. "I'm so sorry, Ali. I'm so sorry." Her repeated apology tapered into a whisper. She moved her lips away from Ali's ear and buried her face in her neck.

"It's okay, Em. It's okay. You're okay now." Was it okay? Alison wasn't sure. Relief and desire distracted her.

Some final wisps of smoke wafted from the entrance to the dollhouse. Emily smelled like smoke, Alison realized as she held her, not campfire but chemical, a lingering abominable smell. She held her tighter and felt the terror slowly seep from Emily as her muscles un-tensed gradually and she melted into Alison's chest. Soon Ali was sure she was supporting most of Emily's weight.

After they ended their embrace and the police began their probing, Alison and Emily found it oddly difficult to approach one another again, let alone interact. Emily's vulnerability inspired them to momentarily peer through cracked doors that both girls had previously thought were sealed shut. This unsettled them. And so, they embraced the barrage of questions, busied themselves with the police reports they were encouraged to file, and endured a constant stream of thank-God-you're-alrights from their parents over the phone, which were broken up by the occasional reprimand.

* * *

It took a brief explanation from Ezra to give Emily reason to speak to Alison again. The dust had begun to settle around them and distractions were getting harder to find.

Everyone's parents were desperately speeding down the route between Rosewood and Tyler State Park, eager to see their children again when he explained what happened. Emily couldn't respond when Ezra finished.

"Emily?"

"She…?"

"She did. She risked her life. Without her and Caleb, we might not have—" his voice cracked slightly at the thought and he swallowed thickly before he could continue— "we might not have found you…in time."

Emily didn't know when she would stop being surprised by Alison's efforts to protect her friends. She wondered if there was some sort of balance in her heart that would have to be struck between all of Ali's barbs and high school sins and her good deeds before she could ever believe in Alison again. She wanted to believe in her. Not believing had created a monster of her, she thought and had inspired her greatest regret: sending Alison to jail.

She finally gathered the courage to approach Ali and she was glad that she did when she saw Alison's thankful smile and glassy but hopeful eyes.

Emily didn't know how to apologize again and she wasn't sure she wanted to keep apologizing. Alison didn't want her to either. Instead, she simply thanked Ali, who found responding with words difficult.

What could she say? "You're welcome" seemed too simple somehow. Besides, Ali thought, her decision was selfish; she wanted Emily to be safe, that's all she's ever wanted. In lieu of words, Ali settled for a communication that they had well practiced: holding hands.

It risked so much less rejection. Even when Emily was icy with anger she wouldn't deny Alison's hand. This time was no different and they both looked at their entwined fingers for a moment and relaxed.

And, no, Alison didn't know who Charles DiLaurentis was. But if that person had harmed Emily and her friends, a family connection wouldn't be able to allay their punishment, let alone save their life.

* * *

It was still dark when everyone arrived home and headed to bed, and none of them were sure if it was late night or early morning. Emily couldn't sleep and she was fully aware that her mother had no intention of even trying to. Pam sat in the dimly lit living room reading. She checked on Emily every so often and Emily closed her eyes to avoid a conversation. After the third time checking on Emily in two hours Pam accidentally fell asleep on the couch and Emily was left with only her thoughts, her memories of torcher. Try as she did to distract her mind and reroute her imagination, she couldn't. After tolerating her own motionlessness for too long, Emily's restlessness spread to her limbs and she was practically thrashing in bed trying to find comfort. Her body ached.

Emily stopped when she heard the creaking of her window unsticking from its frame followed by a small gust of cool air. She sprung up from the bed and gasped. Fear stole her voice and she couldn't scream.

A hand came back up and fingers snaked over the edge of the window pane. They gripped it tightly and slowly crept further into the room.

"Emily, could you give me a hand?" Ali's voice floated in with another breeze. Emily's fear was replaced by confusion, and she leaned her head out the window before wrapping a hand tightly around Alison's elbow and hoisting her inside.

The force of her entry caused her to tumble forward into Emily, who caught her and helped to steady her.

Ali looked back to the window with malice. "God, that used to be easier."

Emily stared at her with her mouth open in surprise.

Alison tilted her head and just barely smiled. She ran her hand down Emily's arm before letting it fall back to her side. "I'm sorry, I'm sure I scared you. I didn't know how else to get in! My Dad asked—begged—me not to leave the house, and I didn't know about your mother. Does she hate me? Because I would totally understand if she—"

"No she doesn't—she doesn't hate you." Emily rasped.

"Well, that's good."

"Why are you here?"

Alison shrugged. "I'm not really sure. I don't know. I couldn't sleep, and I was worried about you….Did I wake you up?" She knew the answer.

"No, I couldn't sleep either."

"I understand."

The silence that followed made Ali question her herself. "I can leave. I'm sorry, I don't know what I was thinking, I'll—I'll go." She turned to the window, but Emily grabbed her arm and turned her back around.

Alison looked to Emily for an explanation, but when she opened her mouth she couldn't say anything.

The wind blew in and kicked up the curtains and Ali's hair so she turned around again to the protest of Emily. "Ali…!"

But she was just moving to pull it closed before turning back around. It was then that she noticed that Emily was only in a t-shirt and underwear and she raked her eyes down her body before letting out the breath she had been holding.

Emily looked down at herself and realized too that she was barely dressed. "I—"

Alison regained her composure. "I have to leave before the sun comes up, but I'll stay for a bit. Do you want to watch a movie or…?"

"Can we just sleep?"

Alison nodded once and headed toward the bed.

When Emily laid down Ali slowly pulled the covers over her before resting on top of them next to her. Emily snaked her hand out and reached for Alison's. She grabbed it and held it tightly and she leaned down to place a light kiss at Emily's hairline.

"I'm so glad you're alive, Em."

Her eyes were closed when she responded. "I wouldn't be if it weren't for you."

Alison rolled her eyes and shook her head and laid back down. Emily found sleep eventually, but Alison couldn't. Instead, she kept watch. She sat up and fretted about what the girls must have been through, she rested on her side to stare at Emily, she laid on her back and distracted herself with the moonlight patterns on the ceiling, but she did not sleep.


	4. Interlude 1

**A/N: This is a brief interlude, as promised. It is set during season 6A and sees Emily find out about the nature of Alison and Lorenzo's relationship.**

As Emily pulled up in front of Alison's house, Lorenzo was walking down the porch toward his cop car.

Something about his smile, even more so Alison's smile at his back, made Emily hesitate. She finally shut the car off when Lorenzo pulled away and she saw Alison looking in her direction with a furrowed brow, her hands wrapped together like an uncommitted prayer in front of her.

Emily approached her but suddenly didn't feel like walking all the way up the front steps. Instead, she stood in front of them, Ali staring down at her.

"Em?"

Emily's throat was dry and her mouth empty when she made an effort to speak. Ali always seemed to leave her with her mouth agape, and she didn't know why. She could plan a conversation for hours and then totally forget the subject of it when she saw Ali. It happened less when they were younger, they talked more.

Alison knew it must be for lack of habit that Emily could never seem to say what she meant or say anything at all. They had almost completely missed two years of each other's lives, almost. They were out of practice and it made Alison sad.

"Are you…?"

"I just—"

They spoke at once and then both abruptly stopped and waited for the other to continue.

Finally, Ali did. "What's up?"

Emily shrugged. "I just wanted to check in, I haven't seen you around lately."

"I've just been taking some time to myself to think."

"Oh." Emily took a breath, slumped her shoulders and said no more.

Alison watched as Emily's gaze tilted downward. "Do you want to…come in or…?" She pointed her thumb toward the door and turned slightly.

"No, I—just…I mean if you." She swallowed and gave up and Ali couldn't help but smirk slightly at her endearing behavior.

But then, something in Emily's eyes had darkened her gaze when she looked back up. "Are you two…?" She shrugged in the direction of where Lorenzo's car once was. The question wasn't unkind, though abrupt.

"Yes—no. I don't know….We go to church together sometimes."

Emily couldn't help but laugh a little. She immediately regretted it when she saw Alison deflate a little.

She regained her composure quickly, though. "I'm serious," she insisted through a smirk.

"Why?"

Alison sighed and shook her head. "I've made mistakes in my life. I have some things I'd like to work through. I'm just trying it on for size...I," she paused, "I treated you, all of you, terribly when we were younger and you were my friends. The people who I decided were my enemies I treated even worse. I'm the reason you were all targeted by 'A'."

"Ali, that wasn't your fault."

"It was, Em."

"But—"

"I went to jail, Em."

"Ali, that definitely wasn't your fault. And we're sorry. _I_ am _so sorry_ , Ali."

"Please, just stop apologizing. You don't have to apologize anymore," she whispered before looking down to her feet and rubbing her elbow anxiously.

Emily just stared.

"You wouldn't have lost faith in me or suspected me if I wasn't a liar, to begin with. I was trying to help, but I should have just told you the truth. And before I ran away, Emily? Before I ran away? I was awful. I wouldn't trust me either."

"Please don't say that. What we did was—"

"A mistake, but not an unforgivable one."

Emily couldn't convince herself of that. She would always carry some guilt with her. That must be why Alison goes to church, she realized: guilt.

Alison's eyes were glassy and she tilted her head up to the sky to keep tears from falling. After a few blinks, she was able to look back at Emily.

Emily tried to step up on to the porch, but Ali protested. "Don't"

" _What_ ," Emily thought, " _she was just asking if I wanted to come inside_."

Alison also wondered why she suddenly didn't want Emily to come any closer, and she wrapped her arms around herself. Fear, she decided, fear that she would hurt Emily if she let her back in.

Emily simply nodded. "So you go to church then…, with Lorenzo. Who is your…?"

"Friend."

Emily stared.

"Who I sometimes kiss. So, I guess we're a thing."

"A thing."

"Do you care that we are? A thing?" The question was genuine and soft and filled with concern, even hope.

"No, why would I?"

Alison peeled her eyes before rolling them back and biting her bottom lip. "Yeah," she scoffed, "why would you?"

Clouds slowly began to creep over the sun and they both looked up at the sound of a single smack of thunder hitting the sky.

Emily didn't know what else to say so she settled for "I'll call you later, okay?"

"Mhm."

Emily opened the door to her car, but before she could bend to get in she heard Alison say, "You know if you ever need anything…."

"I know. You too." Emily agreed without looking back.


	5. Does that Make it Right?

**A/N: This chapter is also set during season 6A, shortly before the midseason finale. This story is meant to be a compliment to canon, so if there are any onscreen moments you would like me to touch on or expand on, let me know! This story will eventually explore a lot of their lost moments in season 7. For example, what happened between their argument in episode 7x11 and their dinner date in 7x12?**

* * *

Emily was relieved to find a large manila envelope from Rosewood High in the mail. She had been checking it every day in search of her diploma. None of the girls attended graduation, and they found their parent's acceptance of this incredibly merciful. The irrational fear that her diploma—her ticket out of Rosewood—would never come sometimes overwhelmed Emily. Though, none of her fears were truly irrational after everything that had happened with A—Charlotte—CeCe.

Sometimes she thought of CeCe calling her "Americano" and smiling through her blue eyes. How had she not known? Alison has the same eyes.

 _"But, even at her cruelest Alison's were kinder,"_ Emily thought. _"CeCe's weren't unkind, though, were they?"_

Emily felt incredibly conflicted about the girl who she only knew for a short time; the one who reminded her that she was important to Alison. How could she reconcile that girl with her torturer? She had been asked to make friends of her enemies, they all had, so many times before. This time would have to be different, though. The distance had to be proportional to her crimes. They weren't just her crimes and her crimes alone, they were Mr. DiLaurentis's crimes too.

 _"That doesn't make it right, does it?"_ Emily wondered.

She _was_ conflicted, exhaustingly conflicted, and she hoped leaving would help. But if she felt this conflicted about someone she barely knew, how must Alison feel about her long-lost sibling?

"Emily?! Did the mail come yet?" Her mother called from the house and she realized she was still staring at the empty mail box with the pile of envelopes gripped tightly in her hand.

As her mother sifted through the mail, Emily opened her envelope. She held her breath as she slowly slid the stiff paper out and only when she read "certificate of…" did she let it go and begin to breathe normally again. A few other papers tumbled out with the diploma: a coupon for 20% off of framing services, which she trashed, a magnet with a class picture that she didn't attend, trashed, and a small folded card with RHS embossed in bronze on the front.

When she unfolded it she recognized the handwriting, though she didn't know from where. It read, "Meet me at our spot tonight at 8:34.", and Emily gasped when she read "-A," at the end, except she quickly realized it was followed by "li."

"Ali," she whispered to herself.

* * *

Emily's mother bristled a little when Emily told her she was going for a walk. The idea of her going out alone, especially in the evening, was still difficult for her mother to grasp since the dollhouse. Pam was trying to be less suffocating, though. Emily left just after she and her mom had finished a brief Skype call with her father.

Her watch read 8:25 PM and she knew it took 7 to 9 minutes to walk to the kissing rock. She was anxious to see Alison but also nervous. What could they possibly say to one another?

The tree shadows stenciled the evening sun in leaf patterns on the dirt path, and the dampness of the air caused swarms of bugs to lull around. Emily swatted them away impatiently. What had been a very hot day was now slowly tempering.

Emily only sensed that she'd made it to the clearing when the light patterns changed, she did not look up. Instead, she looked at her watch. It had only taken her 6 minutes to get there. It was a new record and it allowed for a few more seconds of hesitation before she looked up and stepped into the opening.

Alison sat on the rock and stared at Emily, whose hair cascaded over her downturned face. The next breath she took was far too quick before her nerves forced it out again. Finally, she saw Emily look up and smiled.

"Right on time," she thought, "typical swimmer."

Emily wasn't prepared for what she saw before her, moreso unprepared for her reaction to what she saw. Alison was like a dream, sitting there smiling sweetly almost hesitantly. The sun was low in the sky and it outlined her body. She was almost glowing through the haze.

Emily was breathless as she approached. She sat down on the very edge of the rock opposite Ali, practically not sitting at all. She looked into her eyes and then looked down at her pointed feet.

"You got my note…"

"How…?"

"If I gave away all of my secrets wouldn't that take away my mystery?"

"Ali," Emily begged, looking up at her.

Ali sighed and looked down at her hands, which she rung out nervously. "…I got a job at RHS for the summer. I'm doing whatever: organizing office supplies, stuffing envelopes with report cards and… _diplomas_."

"I see."

Alison reached her hand out to touch Emily's knee but quickly thought better of it. Emily was sitting too far away anyway.

Except, she shifted closer and looked into Alison's eyes before speaking again. "Why on earth would you want to stay there?"

"It's a job for now. I'm planning on staying in Rosewood. That's what I wanted to talk to you about. I just thought you should know."

"I can't believe they would let you work there," Emily blurted out to her immediate regret.

Alison looked to the side and bit her lip.

Emily moved away again as if her proximity might hurt Alison more than her words already had. "I'm sorry," she finally mumbled, "I didn't—"

"It's okay, Em." Ali reached for her hand this time and held it.

Emily turned it so that they could intertwine their fingers and they both relaxed a little.

"Honestly, I was surprised myself."

"They must know that you've changed."

Alison caressed the side of Emily's hand with her thumb and looked at her watch. "8:36," she whispered.

"Why did you ask me to come here at such a specific time?"

"Because sunset should start right about," she nodded toward the trees to her side, "now."

The sun that had just been outlining Alison two minutes ago now turned a quiet twilight blue. The change was almost immediate and Emily had never realized how beautiful a sunset could be even without the horizon to measure it by.

"Did you work things out with Lorenzo? Is that why you're staying?" Emily broke the silence in the worst possible way and she felt Alison stiffen before trying to pull her hand away.

Emily boldly resisted the move by tightening her grip and Alison eventually relaxed again.

"No, I don't really want things to work out with him."

"Why?"

Alison simply looked at her as if she should know the answer.

"Why are you staying then?"

"I was on the run for two years, Em. During that time I saw a lot of different places, a lot of 'not Rosewood,' and I learned that it's not the place, the pain just follows you."

Emily shifted closer and brushed a strand of hair behind Alison's ear. Alison leaned into the touch before it ended.

"Rosewood is just as good as any place to….God! I don't know. Start something? Fix myself? Build a family…? My family is here still."

Emily furrowed her brow. Mr. DiLaurentis and Alison were not on speaking terms, he had moved and Jason was in the process of purchasing the house from his father. Emily didn't know why he was buying it since he had moved to New York city. Was he buying it for Alison? Her family wasn't here….Charlotte was, Emily realized and gasped.

"Em?"

She pulled away from Alison again. "Ali…?" Her eyes were a warning.

"Someone has to look out for her, Em." She tilted her head sadly. "What my father did to her…it's awful. Her medical care will happen near Rosewood, and someone will need to stay close by."

"Ali, you don't owe her anything. You know that, right?"

Alison didn't respond.

"Ali?"

She looked away and pushed some tears from her cheeks.

Emily put her hand on her shoulder and scooted closer.

Alison didn't expect to feel Emily's strong arms wrap around her from the back, but she was grateful when Emily did hug her.

Emily rested her chin on Alison's shoulder, and grabbed her right wrist with her left hand, creating an unbreakable loop around Alison's body.

Alison leaned her head back onto Emily's shoulder and reached up to grab her forearms.

Emily could barely breathe. Her own advances surprised her. They had not been this close to each other in months.

"I'm so sorry, Em. Please forgive me, but I have to stay and try to support her."

"I forgive you," she rasped.

"Do you want to walk over to the lake? We can see the sun go down from there."

It was almost entirely dark, Emily noticed. She nodded and Alison felt her chin hit her shoulder.

Ali reluctantly peeled Emily's arms from her body before slowly standing, turning around, and offering her her hand.

Emily took it and used each step to watch a different part of Alison's body from behind. Step: her wrist turning gracefully, the smooth skin of it. Step: her elbow following suit, a little red and dry at its hinge. Step: her hair blowing gently from the lake's breeze as they neared its edge. Step: the gentle curve of her hip and downward, swaying as she walked.

At the final step, she stopped and turned to Emily, who admired what she could still see of her blue eyes and the sad but nostalgic hopefulness that filled them.

Emily followed her gaze when it drifted over the water. The last band of the sun slipped below the glassy black surface.

"When do you start classes at Pepperdine?"

Emily waited until Alison turned around to respond. "You heard. How did you—"

"I can't give away all m secrets, Em." She smirked. "...I saw the sticker on your car."

Emily laughed. "Classes start on the 23rd of August, but I'm leaving a week early to get there in time for freshmen orientation."

Alison nodded. "Will you come—will you come and say 'goodbye' before you leave?"

"Of course! We all will."

Alison looked back to the lake and carelessly swung Emily's hand back and forth.

Emily moved to stand directly beside her but made sure their fingers remained intertwined.

"Good," Alison whispered, "I'm glad you came tonight."

"Did you think I wouldn't?"

She shrugged.

Emily let go of her hand and Ali feared she was leaving, but then she wrapped her arm around Ali's shoulder.

"How did you know I was cold."

It was Emily's turn to shrug.

Alison tilted her head into Emily's chest. "Will you write?"

"Y'know, I might even text."

Alison shivered.

"Yeah, you're right, I'll call."

"Better."

"I'll call as often as you want me to."

Neither of them realized how false that statement would become over the course of the next five years.


	6. Interlude 2

**A/N: I'm so sorry for the incredible delay in updating this story. Consider this second interlude a reminder that I'm still here. I've been writing non-stop for this and 'Ripper', but I'm just not feeling very confident in my work right now. Even though I've been writing the next chapter of this story for over a week, I still don't have it ready because I keep trashing it and starting over. I hope you like this interlude, though. I used to answer reviews via PM, but I've answered those with specific comments and questions below so that we can keep the conversation open. That being said, my inbox is always open! Thank you to everyone who has reviewed. Hopefully, the answers below will provide some insight into the direction of this story. - James**

* * *

Hope is a curious thing. Alison thought of it as the revisionist's naivety and hadn't bothered with it since the moment her mother sprinkled the first shovel of dirt into her grave. She hadn't bothered with it until her first phone call with Emily. It happened in the late summer almost two years prior when Emily just wanted to tell Alison that the drive to California was going well. Then she called to tell Ali that she'd moved into her dorm. The third call was about her aloof roommate, the forth about Alison's Hollis application and the fifth about Charlotte's progress with Doctor Sullivan. Emily chose to call Alison first after she found out that her shoulder injury would prevent her from being a life guard on the state beaches in Malibu, that was the first time she cried during one of their calls. Alison complained to Emily that her course schedule was too demanding for a social life and Emily insisted that she go out and see the world. Alison had been trying to cut the time to receive her degree in half; Emily called her ambitious, but Alison heard "crazy."

If hope was like flying, then those phone calls gave Alison wings. It was just one simple question that clipped them and grounded her for good.

"Why Stanford?" Ali asked Emily as she headed to her car.

Emily's hesitation made her nervous. "Because…I'm visiting Paige."

Alison lost her breath so rapidly it felt like she had fallen onto concrete. She paused, still standing and holding the car door in her hand.

"Ali?"

"Oh."

"We ran into each other on the beach and she just suggested that I come and see—"

"That's nice," Ali responded too quickly. She felt herself shutting down as she had been trained to. The slightest hint of heartbreak, like an incoming winter wind, could turn her back to ice. "I'm glad you'll get the chance to catch up."

Emily could sense Ali's anger because her voice was saccharine and thick. "Well I—"

"I've got to go. I promised Charlotte I would come visit her after dinner."

"Ah—okay. We'll talk soon?"

Alison had already hung up.

Over the next two weeks, Emily had tried to call Alison fourteen times. The more she was ignored, the more her own hope deflated. She knew Alison didn't like Paige, but she didn't realize she still felt so strongly about her. Something too gnawed at Emily: the thought that maybe something had happened to Alison or that she wasn't picking up for some other reason. Her attempts to call became less and less frequent until they tapered off completely. Still, the trauma of her teenage years caused her to be extremely wary of silence.

The beach was cloudy as she pulled her cell phone from her ear. The vague sound of Alison's voicemail saying "I'm sorry I couldn't…," was cut off when Emily hung up in frustration.

The air was heavy with moisture, but it was chilly because the sun was hidden. Emily stopped in front of her favorite shore-side bar, really just a shack with a grass roof and a dirty mini-fridge, and texted Ali. No one else had stayed in Rosewood, so she couldn't ask anyone if Alison was okay or if they'd seen her.

"Can you please just tell me that you're okay. Are you okay?" she typed.

She put her cell phone in her pocket and approached the bar. The soft sand buried the backs of her flip flops only to be shaken out with each step. When she made it to the bar she noticed that no one was there, but the liquor was out and the blue and yellow surfboard-shaped sign said "open." She sat down on a plastic stool meant to look like bamboo and decided to wait. Her breath caught when she felt her phone buzz.

"I'm fine," it read.

"Then why haven't you answered my calls? Are you angry with me?"

"How's Paige?"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

When Ali didn't respond, Emily continued.

"Do you even care how she is?"

"Of course not. Don't be ridiculous, Em."

"Why are you acting like this?"

"Like what?"

"Like you don't want me to see Paige."

"You answered your own question."

"So, you don't want me to see Paige?"

"Would you stop if I said 'yes'? Seeing her, I mean."

Emily was too angry to actually consider the question before typing back, "Of course not, Ali. You don't control my life anymore."

"Meow."

"We're dating again." Emily felt her heart sink to her stomach. She knew her last text would upset Ali.

Ali didn't respond.

"You have no right to be angry," Emily continued. She wanted to break her own fingers for being so relentless.

"You're right. I don't."

Alison set her phone down on the kitchen counter and took a deep breath. Alison knew Emily was right. How could she be angry? They hadn't even spoken about being anything but friends for over two years. Besides, Emily was miles away and they'd only ever talked over the phone.

She reached for a bottle of cab that sat next to the fridge and poured herself a glass. She carried it to the living room, but before she could take a drink she began to cry. The wine was forgotten on the coffee table, and Alison lowered herself onto the couch before hugging her knees to herself and letting her tears soak into her sweatpants. She heard her phone buzz but ignored it.

"Then why are you?" Emily had asked.

Ali heard it buzz again a couple of minutes later. She ignored it.

"Look, Ali, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be so harsh. Can we please talk?"

Emily brushed her toes through the sand impatiently. Not only had Ali ignored her last text, but no one had come to the bar.

"Screw this," she muttered as she stood and reached across the particle board bar top for a bottle of white rum.

She leaned in again for a slice of lime. It was fresh, she noticed. Where had the bar tender gone? She couldn't reach the mint or the covered bowl of sugar and she sighed in frustration. After scanning her surroundings, she got up and walked around the bar and began making herself a drink.

"Ah!" she shrieked when a hand grabbed her ankle.

A twenty-something guy with frosted hair and a deep tan looked up at her. "You want a drink," he asked sleepily from his sand bed.

"You've been here the whole time?" She shook her leg free of his grasp.

He nodded and stood up. "Mojito, I assume?"

"What a genius." She rolled her eyes.

He brushed the sand from his red swim trunks and took the mint from her hand.

She rounded the bar and sat back down.

He yawned and stretched. "It's been a slow day."

She was silent as he made the drink.

He placed a clam-shell shaped cardboard coaster on the bar and set her drink on it.

"Thanks."

"I would ask you what's wrong, but I'm not that kind of bar tender." His voice was slow and calm.

"I appreciate that."

"You want a job?"

"What?" Emily did need a job, badly. Her on campus work at the library barely paid.

"A job. We've been looking for someone to cover weekend shifts."

Emily dreaded losing the weekend, and it would mean seeing less of Paige, but she needed the money and it was practically being thrown into her lap.

"It's good tips on the weekend. Sunburned happy drunks are generous. How old are you?"

"I turn twenty-one in a couple of months."

"Good enough. Do you have any kind of certification?"

She stared at him.

"I'm just kidding."

She smirked. "Sure. I'll take it... The job, I'll take it."

Emily wished she could tell Alison about the incredibly serendipitous job offer, but she knew she wouldn't be speaking to Alison again for a very long time.

* * *

Hope is a curious thing. When it's ripped from someone's chest, they are always looking to fill the space it leaves. It just so happened that the evening after Emily had texted Alison she was introduced to one of the kindest and most handsome men she had ever met, or so she thought.

Doctor Sullivan smiled. "Alison, this is Doctor Elliot Rollins, he will be overseeing your sister's care from now on."

His smile was so warm, and his hand was soft as it slipped into Alison's palm. He shook it firmly, not like some men who held a woman's hand as if it were made of blown glass. Elliot looked directly at her with his soft brown eyes.

"I have absolute faith in Doctor Rollins, Alison. I'm sure he will take the best care of Charlotte. You have my number if anything comes up?"

She dropped his hand a nodded to Doctor Sullivan, but saw Elliot continue to admire her in her periphery and blushed at the attention.

* * *

 **SincerelyYours27** : _Thank you so much for continuing to review! I'm impatient to get to season 7 too. I gave some real consideration to skipping ahead because that's when I think things will really heat up. However, I also really want this story to be a sort of Emison post-season 5 omnibus, and I don't want to regret having not written for all of their key moments. I always loved Emison on the show, but I also always wanted more. I guess that's what kept us all coming back week after week. I'm going to write them through season 6, but I will keep it brief. When I get to season 7 I will start making the chapters longer, and also introducing some more original content. The next chapter will deal with Alison's reaction to the death of Emily's father. Thanks again, and stay tuned!_

 **Guest 8/7 #2** : "Will Rollins make an appearance?" _We know now that he has, but that will probably be the most we see of him in this story, though he will be referenced during some of Alison and Emily's conversations. I tried to make him charming, because even though we know he's a liar Alison doesn't as of yet, and her attraction to him needs to be believable. Alison isn't stupid and she wouldn't marry someone she wasn't interested in. Besides, Elliot does look like Huw Collins who is a total babe (and a hardcore Emison shipper); I wouldn't kick him out of bed for leaving crumbs. Thank you so much for your review!_

 _ **S/O: To everyone who has taken the time to give the story their stamp of approval, especially those who review each chapter (Boris Yeltsin, Chobits3, and Jordana Amore). Your engagement and compliments help me to keep writing despite my ridiculous schedule and my self-doubt.** _

_Thanks also for all of the follows and favorites._

 _-James_


	7. Why Didn't You Come?

**A/N: I can say from personal experience that, please pardon my language, losing a parent young really fucking blows. - James**

* * *

"Of course, Emily, take as much time as you need," her professor had assured her.

"I'm so sorry, take as much time as you need. I lost my father in my twenties. If you need to talk just let me know," another said.

"Take as much time as you need."

"Take as much time as you need."

 _"_ _As much time as I need. How about forever?"_ Emily wondered on the plane ride home for her father's funeral. She could barely breathe let alone learn.

She prayed for sleep as she stared out the window. Her eyes were directed at the clouds, the ocean, the sun rising and setting, but she didn't actually see any of it; she was too busy staring inward.

She prayed for sleep. She prayed for sleep. In her sleep, she wasn't thinking about her father. Sleep would make the torturous claustrophobia of the ride and her thoughts pass by more quickly.

A tissue floated into her field of sight and it took her ten slow seconds to notice it. She turned toward the offering hand. A young woman, not much older than herself, with curly brown hair, smiled at her.

"What?"

"It's okay. Are you afraid of flying? Everything is going to be okay."

"What?" She couldn't handle more than one word.

The woman tilted her head curiously. "You're crying."

Emily touched her face and was shocked by her own emotion. "I'm not scared of flying." She took the tissue and wiped her face. "My dad just died."

The woman put her travel size tissues back into her laptop bag and rusted around before pulling her hand out again. She held an orange pill bottle.

"What—?"

"Xanex." She handed one to Emily.

"I...Thank you."

Emily didn't know why she had just told a stranger such a personal thing, or why she took the medicine so willingly, but regardless it helped her to sleep for the remainder of the ride, and she was grateful.

Alison slowly placed the paper down on her classroom desk.

"Alison?" She looked up to see Elliot leaning against the doorframe.

"Hey."

"Everything alright?"

"Uh, yeah." She didn't know why she was lying to him. _"Old habits,"_ she thought.

"Good."

"Why are you here?"

"I wanted to speak to you in person about your sister."

"Is she okay?"

"More than." He stepped inside. "I think she may be well enough to return home…for good."

Alison's happiness was brief. As quickly as she hoped for her sister's return, she remembered what she had just read.

"Alison?"

She looked back up at him. "That's great news. What do we have to do?"

"We have to request a hearing. The judge has to approve it."

Alison knew there would be a catch, there was always a catch, but the anticipation didn't stop her worry. "What if he doesn't?"

"He will, and once the hearing is granted he will need sworn testimonies, ideally from your friends."

 _"_ _That's ridiculous,"_ she thought. _"Even if Emily's dad hadn't just died….Oh, God! Poor Emily."_

"Do you think that they—"

"I can't ask them to do that." She looked back down at her desk.

"Alison, if you want your sister to—"

"I won't ask them to do that!"

Elliot nodded before he quietly left.

Alison circled the section of Wayne Field's obituary that said "Services will be held…and all are welcome," but wondered if _she_ was welcome. Why hadn't Emily told her? Though they hadn't spoken in a while, she thought Emily would tell her.

 _"_ _She doesn't owe me anything,"_ she realized, _"and I know how distracted and scattered she must feel. Maybe it slipped her mind."_

She called Hanna.

"Why didn't she tell me?"

"I don't know, Ali, but if she didn't then I think it's safe to assume that she doesn't want you there….I'm sorry."

"Do you need a ride from the airport?"

"No, Mom's going to pick me up."

* * *

While Emily stood on the soggy ground of the Rosewood cemetery watching her father's casket, shrouded in the American flag, be lowered into the dirt, Alison was sealing the envelope to a note that she'd written to her estranged friend.

Later, Ali was descending the porch steps of the Field's home hoping to slip away before the family got back. When she looked up, Emily was standing at the bottom of the steps, linking arms with her mother.

"I'm sorry," Ali said, "I was just leaving you a note."

Emily stared at her and Pam didn't respond. Alison awkwardly returned to the table she had set the note on, retrieved it, and offered it to Emily.

Emily stared at her and didn't move, but Pam eventually reached for it and smiled. "Thank you, Alison. I was sorry that you couldn't make it to the service."

Alison noticed her unusually slow and relaxed demeanor. "I was sorry too, Mrs. Fields. If you need anything, my number hasn't changed."

"Thank you, Alison." She yawned and left Emily's side to walk up the steps. "Emmy, I'm going to bed now. I will leave this," she held up the note, "on the table for you."

Emily opened her mouth to respond but found that she couldn't, she glared at Alison. Pam simply nodded and shut the door behind her.

"I gave her a few glasses of wine," Emily finally explained.

"Oh."

"That's all you have to say?"

"I—"

"Why didn't you come?" Emily demanded. Her arms were crossed and she didn't blink.

Alison was shocked. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Tell you?! Tell you! You made it clear you didn't want to talk to me, Ali, I just thought this might be an exception."

"I figured you didn't want me there. You didn't tell me, so I thought—"

"I called you twice!"

"What?" Ali was too shocked to continue standing so she sank down and sat on the top step. She couldn't look up at Emily. "I never…I never got a call." She held her hand over her heart.

"Maybe one of the three texts I sent then!"

Ali shook her head.

"The emails, the letter," Emily listed.

Ali shook her head.

"You're lying!"

"Why would I lie?!"

She turned and shook her head. "I don't know! I don't know, Ali. You tell me. Your address hasn't changed. Your number hasn't changed."

Emily was hyperventilating, clenching and unclenching her hands. "Emily…."

"Why weren't you there?" she sobbed. "I needed you…."

Alison stood up and wrapped Emily in her arms. She felt tears soak through her shirt at the shoulder; she smelled the mixture of a million perfumes from all the family members and strangers who must have hugged Emily.

"Emily," she finally whispered, "I didn't get a letter or a call or anything, I swear to you. I don't know why or how, but I didn't. I would have been there if I knew that you wanted me there."

"I needed you," she corrected.

"That you _needed_ me there." Alison rubbed Emily's back. "I didn't know, I'm sorry." She took a deep breath. "I'm here now, though. I'm here now."

"Nobody else gets it. No one else knows what it feels like, but you know what it feels like."

Alison led Emily to the steps and they sat down next to each other. "People crying _at_ you," she explained, "you having to comfort everyone else even though yours is the greatest loss of all."

Emily nodded.

"Feeling like you're an orphan and your father—mother—is just some kid you have to take care of."

Emily let out a breath that she had been holding. "It hurts."

"I know."

"The girls were there?"

Emily nodded. "They snuck me out of the condolences line and gave me a flask."

Alison smiled. "Of course they did. And Paige?"

"We broke up a couple of months ago, but she offered to come to the funeral."

"Did she?"

"I told her not to."

"Why?"

Emily shrugged. "Just another person to take care of."

Alison pushed Emily's hair behind her ear. "I understand."

"I'm always the one—"

"Taking care of other people."

"Yeah. And I just—"

"Want to be taken care of so you can focus on missing your dad and feeling like shit."

"Exactly."

Alison draped her arm over Emily's shoulder.

"Why did you stop talking to me?"

"I was angry."

"Why?"

"Emily maybe we should talk about this some other time."

"But I'm here now, and I'm afraid you won't talk to me again once I leave."

Alison retracted her arm and folded her hands in her lap. She looked down. "I was angry with you for meeting with Paige."

"Why do you hate her so much?"

"I don't hate her. I hate her with you."

"You're jealous."

"I don't have a right to be. We live so far apart now."

Emily looked up to the sky and bit her lip. "Everyone has a right to their feelings."

"It's not just that I hate her _with_ you, I hate her _for_ you."

"What do you mean?"

"Mushy squash."

" 'It's what's left at the buffet once everyone has made their choice.'"

Alison nodded. "You can do better than her, Em."

"That's mean."

"I can't help it."

"And what are you? Everyone's first choice?" Emily asked. _"You were mine,"_ she thought.

Alison smirked. "No I—I'm…not an option."

"Of course," Emily scoffed.

"No! I mean, I'm…I'm not an….I'm poisonous."

Emily turned at this and took Alison's chin in her hand. She tilted her face up and forced her to look. "Don't say that."

"I'm awful."

"No, you are not."

"I'm sorry about Paige."

"No, you're not."

"No, I'm not." Ali sighed. "I didn't mean to make this about me."

Emily shrugged. "That was my fault, not yours."

"What do _you_ want?"

"A drink."

"I can do that." Alison stood an offered Emily her hand. "I know a place."

"Is it called 'my house?' Because I don't feel like going out in public right now."

"Sure. What do you think your mom has?"

The answer was nothing. They dug through the cabinets and found nothing but tea and coffee grinds, though Alison spotted three empty wine bottles in the recycling bin.

"My house?" Alison asked.

"Sure. I might as well get changed while I'm here."

While Emily was upstairs, Alison moved to sit on the couch but noticed that it was covered with sheets and a blanket.

"Is someone else staying with you?" she asked Emily as she came back down the stairs.

"Ah…no. I've been sleeping on the couch."

"Your mom already turned your bedroom into a gym…? That was fast," Alison joked.

"It's weird, I just don't like sleeping in my old room, I think more about Dad when I'm up there alone."

"I know what you mean."

Emily wrote her mother a note and left in the kitchen.

Alison stretched her hand out. "Come on."

* * *

Emily was beginning to fade after just a rocks glass and a half of whiskey; she was exhausted from the endless day.

Alison finished her own drink and left the empty glass on the coffee table next to Emily's. "Tired?" she whispered.

"Yeah…but I don't want to sleep. If I sleep this day will be over, and then my father will have been dead for eight days."

Alison placed her hand on Emily's knee and moved closer to her on the couch.

"I just want it to be seven days for a little bit longer."

"Okay."

"I don't want to sleep," Emily said again with a tremor in her voice. She turned her face toward Alison's.

"What do you want then?"

Emily felt goosebumps crawl up the back of her neck.

Alison leaned in to kiss her. Emily grabbed Alison's hips and opened her mouth in invitation.

"You don't have to sleep on the couch tonight, Em," she said after pulling away with a bite to Emily's bottom lip. "Come with me."

Emily followed her to the master bedroom and let Ali lay her down. When she moved to pull her tee shirt over her head, Alison stopped her. "I'll get that."

Alison pulled Emily to sit and slid her cold fingers below the hem of her shirt. She slowly pulled it over Emily's head and as Emily began to lower her arms back down, Ali reached behind her and hugged her close to her body. After a few breaths, she carefully unhooked Emily's bra and moved to pull the straps down her arms. Emily sat and watched her, she found this side of Alison absolutely fascinating. Ali was determined as usual and focused as usual, but she was also cautious and kind. She found it absolutely fascinating and absolutely arousing.

She grabbed Ali's hands before she could move to unbutton her jeans. "You don't have to if you don't want to."

"I want to if you want to."

Emily dropped her hands and let her continue. She unbuttoned the jeans, unzipped them, and slid down to the end of the bed to pull Emily's shoes off one-by-one, and then her socks, then each pant leg from the cuff. Slowly, she stripped Emily bare. She leaned over her and kissed her, slipping her tongue inside of her mouth. Emily shivered.

Alison sat on the edge of the bed and pushed her own shoes off. She started to undress.

"Stand up," Emily mumbled.

"Hm?"

She motioned to the end of the bed. "Can you stand?"

Ali smiled when she finally realized what Emily meant. At the end of the bed, she turned around and rolled her pants slowly down her legs, bending delicately and unhurriedly down to her ankles to pull them off. She did the same with her panties, and Emily admired her body hesitantly.

"Roll over," Alison whispered before joining Emily once she was totally undressed.

Emily didn't protest. She felt Alison's fingertips everywhere: her back, slowly kneading at her muscles; her legs, skimming smoothly over her skin; her breasts, squeezing them possessively. She felt Alison straddle her, her warmth and wetness against her ass. Eventually, Alison's hands made their way between her legs. With all of Alison's weight pressing down on her body, Emily felt secure for the first time since the one person who had always protected her had died.

Alison took her body in like an explorer must take in a new landscape: curiously, cautiously. When Alison took a breath, Emily pushed into her, when Alison exhaled, Emily retracted. They did this until Emily felt herself disappearing into Alison, and felt her anxieties wisp away like smoke.

"More. Please," Emily managed.

Alison kissed behind her ear, hot and open-mouthed, she kissed down her neck, down the curve of her spine, her thigh, and up again.

"Roll over," Alison whispered and Emily complied.

When Alison was met with the sight of Emily exposed, legs falling open effortlessly, carelessly, ruby red wetness, it felt like she'd just learned the most delightful of secrets. Her exhilaration outweighed her hesitance, her fear of naiveté. She just dove in, as if she'd done it a million times before. Tasting Emily, circling her tongue, pushing it in deeply, was natural. She let Emily's soft whimpers guide her motions, and when the whimpers became moans she was determined to find a single piece of Emily's happiness and restore it.

Emily gripped Alison's hair and held her steady as she came. Alison was lost between her thighs as they arose from the bed. She'd have frozen the moment if she could, but once the pulsing between Emily's legs subsided, and she relaxed, Alison knew the heavy sadness of her loss would engulf her again.

Alison wrapped Emily in her arms and prayed that she would sleep. "How do you feel?"

"Lonely…,"

Alison squeezed her tighter and held her breath.

"but not alone."

Alison remembered the unshakable lonesomeness she felt after her mother died.

"Loved."

"You are," Alison promised.

* * *

 **wicked gravity: _"...why is Rollins there?"_** \- Don't worry! Spoiler alert, he dies. What do you think about the missed phone calls, texts, email, and letter, though?

 **Guest 9/6: _"made me feel the same kind of frustration I felt with the show..." -_** I can understand that, and I while I like filling in or even slightly changing the plot, I do prefer to keep the characters consistent with the show. That being said, I would argue that Emily isn't oblivious. She knows how she feels, she's just really terrible at expressing her feelings, especially with Alison. She knows why Alison hates Paige, but she also feels totally helpless about it. Alison also walks a line between actually saying what she means, and just implying it as a form of self-protection. I think Emily kind of has a rule of only responding fully when Alison is willing to express herself fully. They both sort of play chicken with each other and always have. I hope this chapter was a little more satisfying, though.

 **Thank you, everyone, for the kind words and encouragement!**


	8. Interlude 3

**Painting the Trim: I realized recently that I haven't updated this story in over a month! My sincerest apologies. I will be sure to post a full chapter soon. Sending so much love to you all and many many thanks for the kind and encouraging reviews. I also really appreciate some of the suggestions that have been offered regarding the future of this story, and I intend to incorporate them in some way. - JL**

* * *

When Emily wanted Alison, Alison feared her and even pushed her away. When Ali finally came home, the echo of her previous rejection still rang in Emily's ears. Emily couldn't rely on the frustrating inconsistency of her friend and it was her turn to do the pushing away. She kept pushing for years and even from across the country, but lying in bed eight days after her father had died with Alison's naked body wrapped around her, she had decided to stop resisting the inevitable. She didn't anticipate Alison's picking up of the avoidance baton.

"I have a few papers to grade," Ali said as she climbed from below the covers and dressed quickly. Her pride and her heart were still hurting from the day that Emily announced her trip to Stanford.

Emily knew when Alison DiLaurentis was offering the door, and she was too tired to resist. She was not unwilling to let the cycle of their miscommunication continue.

Alison, though, as she watched Emily sit up on the edge of the bed, decided that their friendship, at the least, was something that she couldn't continue to live without. She found Emily's pants and handed them to her. "But, maybe we could have breakfast first?"

Emily didn't look at her. She simply took her clothes and began to dress. It was several seconds and one pant-leg later that she shrugged and said: "sure, whatever."

Alison felt nauseous suddenly and angry with herself. Her friend's father had just died and she had not only offered sexual comfort in favor of emotional comfort, but she'd already failed at the aftercare that should come with the ridiculous and yet deviously satisfying mistake that they'd both made. "I suck!" she blurted out.

"What?" Emily lowered her hands and looked up in surprise as her shirt fell over her stomach.

Alison looked at the floor and mumbled her response. "I totally suck…." She felt Emily's hand on her chin.

Emily pushed her head up and met her eyes. "No, you don't."

"Last night I—I'm sorry, Em."

She furrowed her brow. "For what?"

"I can be here for you, I can be here for you in whatever way, you know. We can eat breakfast and talk, or not talk. As friends, I mean, but I can't right now I can't…."

Emily nodded and tucked Alison's head into her chest. "That's okay."

"I'm so sorry I stopped talking to you."

"I'm sorry that I was so insensitive about everything."

Alison pulled away and crossed her arms. "You weren't." She shook her head an looked back to the floor. "You weren't. You didn't owe me anything, and you still don't. We're friends, right?" She looked up.

Emily was screaming inside, as was Alison. They never quite knew how to walk at the same pace. They were both screaming inside, but all Emily did was tilt her head and bite her lip in annoyance. "Yeah, just friends."

Alison's own thoughts pounded against her ears but all she did was ask again about breakfast.

It was at the kitchen counter, between bites of toast that Alison first mentioned Charlotte's new doctor and it was then that Emily abandoned her food as she rapidly lost her appetite.

"You sound really…fond of him."

Alison stared at her coffee. "I am."

She smiled a little but Emily noticed that only her mouth moved and it was uncommitted, more like a cringe.

Ali sipped her coffee only to find that it had become cold and she swallowed it with a scowl before dumping the rest into the sink. "He thinks she may be ready to be discharged," she said as she rinsed her cup.

"Discharged?!"

Alison turned around and leaned against the sink. "Well, she would continue with outpatient treatment."

"Where would she stay?"

"With me." Alison wondered why this wasn't obvious to Emily.

Emily wondered why Alison was acting so naive and decided it might have to do with that doctor. "Oh."

"It's not an easy decision, but I miss her. The real her, Em," she defended, "not the person who tortured us."

"It's not like she's two people."

"It sort of is."

"Maybe we should change the subject."

Alison sat back down. "I'm sorry….If you were still living here, if any of you were, I wouldn't even consider it, but now that you've all moved on, I want to give her the chance to move on too."

"Moved on?"

"I don't mean 'moved on' in every way, I just mean that none of you are around anymore, you're safe from her. Not that she's dangerous anymore."

"Who told you that? Her doctor?"

"Why are you saying 'doctor' like that?"

"I just think maybe you should talk to some other medical professionals is all."

It wasn't until Ali was unresponsive, and looking hopelessly sad that Emily decided to relent, and better yet, revisit the idea of changing the subject.

Alison was fretful during the rest of their conversations, though and was anxious to find some way of releasing her sister that wouldn't involve enlisting the help of Charlotte's former victims, especially Emily.


End file.
